Nice
by PinPin13
Summary: A serendipitous failure on Valentine's Day. Co-Authored w/Yllyn. One-Shot.  Jr. Short #1


Disclaimer– I do not own the characters, etc. I am only borrowing them from Janet. This is not for profit, just for kicks.

Black Heart Challenge – PerfectlyPlum Feb. 2010  
><strong><br>****Nice****  
><strong>By PinPin & Yllyn

Romance wasn't exactly his strong suit. Hell, dating in general wasn't something with which he was overly familiar. Hook-ups were his usual territory. Under normal circumstances, he didn't notice the lack; most of the men at RangeMan aren't usually considered boyfriend material. He might have asked advice from one of the more experienced guys, but he didn't want the teasing and heat that would come with it.

This was a clean break for him, an opportunity. He had overheard by chance that she would be alone on Valentine's Day, and wanted to do something special for a woman he liked. Maybe a woman he could love, if they had the chance to find out. Lester had been very dramatic about how gloomy Stephanie would feel if she was alone tonight, and promised to pass along the card he'd written, asking her to meet him at seven.

Stake-outs and invasions; he had training for those. Winning a woman's a heart? Not so much. He made a conscious effort to keep his knee from jumping nervously under the table. Then he sighed and chastised himself for his negativity. He was trained in tactics. He had a plan. It would work. He wondered if he repeated that to himself enough, he'd start to actually believe it.

He chose this restaurant for several reasons, none of which he was sure Stephanie would appreciate. But he hoped that she would. He _really_ hoped. He glanced up at the chandeliers and the intricate detail in the molding. Then his gaze swept over the elaborate windows and across the carpeting. Crisp table clothes and shining silver filled the room. The chairs were soft velvet. The dance floor was a luxurious hardwood and the atmosphere was black tie. This hall was as close as a person could get to the ballroom from Ghostbusters without actually visiting the movie set. And everyone said she loved Ghostbusters, right?

The waitress came over and he started to panic a bit. Not only was Stephanie not here yet, but he really felt out of place in such a nice restaurant. The pretty waitress seemed to sense his discomfort, and gave him a sincere smile. "Would you like to order a drink, or are you waiting for someone to join you?"

"I'm a bit early yet. I'll have a Johnnie Black, neat, while I'm waiting."

She gave him another sweet smile and left to get his drink. When she came back, she had his drink and a red rose, which she put on the plate across from him.

"A rose for your girlfriend," she said.

"Oh. She's not my girlfriend. I don't really know her very well yet." He shrugged and wiped his brow. He had no idea why he was telling her this, but the waitress looked interested and he babbled on. "I wanted to get to know a nice woman. I'm kind of new at this."

She tucked her pen and pad away in an apron pocket and kept smiling encouragingly. "New at this because…?"

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying not to mumble. "I was in the military for a while. I got out recently. Not much opportunity for a real relationship over there."

"I understand." She nodded with polite sympathy. "My cousin said the same when he got back. I'm Colleen and I'll be your waitress this evening. I'll check on you in a bit, or just wave if you're ready for another drink or to order." She began her retreat, but paused in her step and turned back. "I'm sure she'll be happy to get to know you. There's something about you that I think a nice woman would like."

As she walked away, he noticed how well her shape moved in her uniform. That skirt was tailored to haunt a man's dreams. Like the restaurant itself, she looked classy and refined. And surprisingly young for a sophisticated place like this. He felt better already, her smiles telling him that at least one person here was on his side and seemed to understand.

As the night wore on, he nursed his drink and tried to imagine what Stephanie was doing at the moment. And what she was wearing. Best case scenario, it was short and tight and she was handing the valet her keys with a smile on her face. Yet for some reason he doubted it. He bit his lip, wondering if he'd been wrong about all of this. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe the other guys had been wrong. Maybe trusting Santos hadn't been the greatest idea. _Damn._ He checked his watch. _Where was she?_

He knew that he should have picked her up. That's the fantasy, isn't it? The man meets the woman at the door and brings her flowers. He tells her she's beautiful and then whisks her away for the best night of her life... _Crap. _It's not exactly like he was Tom Hanks or Hugh Grant or anything. Since when did he expect his life to become a romantic comedy? Since he decided to pursue Stephanie Plum, that's when. What had he been thinking when he planned this night? _Shit_. She was as far from a romantic comedy damsel as a woman could get. She was more like the vixen in an action flick. She was Sigourney Weaver, Angelina Jolie. He smiled and let his eyes drift closed for a moment, imaging her in a very sporty, leather outfit. She was Milla Jovovich.

The gentle clatter of cutlery and hushed tones of lovers' voices eventually began to lull his senses. His eyes followed the wait staff as they went about their duties on what was obviously a busy night for them. What had begun as a surveillance reflex soon became something more. His eyes tracked his waitress as she wove between the tables with a smooth, easy grace that he was happy to take the time to admire. She had ample curves in all of the places where it mattered and she knew how to move them in ways that men found equally alluring and mysterious. Her slender arms were agile. They were a large part of why she was so good at her job and they made him curious about what else she was good at. Her hair was a dusty, warm shade of red. It reminded him of cinnamon sticks. He could almost smell them when she flashed a half smile in his direction. She had the slightest hint of a dimple on her right cheek.

He'd been too busy with his own thoughts to realize that he'd been staring, but Colleen had noticed. She'd been watching him as well, and every flash of thought that crossed his face. As a waitress, she was well versed in the practice of 'people watching' and tonight she was enjoying it more than usual. She gathered her nerve and approached his table with the same small smile that she'd worn earlier.

"Another?" she asked.

He glanced down at the empty tumbler still cradled in his fingers. "Um," he hesitated. _When had he finished his drink?_ His reply was more automatic than it was thoughtful. "A DogBolter." He pushed his empty glass away and flashed her a weak smile in return.

For a fraction of a second her eyes shifted to the empty chair across from him. "Ready to order yet?"

His stare at the vacant seat was more obvious than hers and lingered much longer. "No. Not yet."

She didn't make any further comment, just returned promptly with his next drink, making a point to hand it to him and let their fingers softly brush against each other. He felt it, and tried to keep his breathing even as she walked away from him again. He had never enjoyed being left by a woman so much.

His phone emitted a soft buzzing sound and he grabbed at it with urgent hands. After all, it might be _her_. He frowned when he saw the text message appear.

'You having fun yet? Happy Valentine's, XOXO, Les.'

A dense, heavy weight settled in his stomach and suddenly he felt like he hadn't had nearly enough to drink. The next time he saw Lester, it would be the last day of that smartass' life.

Colleen hovered behind the bar and watched from a distance as disappointment settled over his table. The restaurant had started to empty by this point in the evening and the hall was growing quiet and sedate. She hung back for at least twenty minutes more than she would ever expect a man to wait for her. When time ran out, she felt that the night was now her gain and some other 'nice' woman's loss and headed straight for his table.

"Mr…" She let her voice trail off inquiringly.

He looked up at her, this time without the slightest trace of a smile. "My friends call me Junior."

"Junior," she murmured. He liked the sound of his name on her lips. Her hand gently rested on his shoulder for a moment and her friendly expression warmed him. "She's not coming."

Those words, however, had the same effect as an ice bath. He sat up straighter in his chair knowing how apparent his failure had been to anyone paying attention. "You're right."

With one last slow, drawn out gaze, she slid a folded slip of paper onto the table.

After admiring her departure one last time, Junior pulled out his cash and glanced down at the check, surprised to see ten extra numbers scribbled at the bottom along with the message, 'I'm nice, Colleen.'

He turned and searched the hall for her, but she had already disappeared through the swinging door that led to the kitchen.

Junior copied the numbers and left the cash on the table. He smiled as he left. He was good at finding people, especially those that left phone numbers.

(1,652 words)

**A/N: ****Many****, many**** thanks go out to the lovely and talented Yllyn, who co-authored this short with me. ****This is a one-shot, written in response to a group challenge at Y!PerfectlyPlum. Thank you for reading.**


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